Gauri, always the braver of the two, spoke first. “If you do not secure this position, we have been informed by our joint councils that they would prefer you not to be in the room during meetings of state.”
Aasha’s eyes widened. “But why? Have I not done my job well? Or—”
“You’ve been a boon to us,” said Vikram. “The problem is that we cannot reveal what it is that you actually do.”
It was of utmost importance that Aasha not reveal her true nature.
“I understand,” she said. And she did.
Aasha tried to put herself in the mind-set of the human councilors. If she had no official position, then she would be forced to the margins of court. All those hours spent in activity, inpurpose,would be replaced with loneliness. Without a purpose, what would she serve to Gauri and Vikram except as some bizarre ornament or relic from a long-ago adventure? She would be a burden to them.
“I do not want to go,” she said. “I’ll just stay and continue on as I have before.”
Again, that pause.
“Our joint councils have been strict,” said Vikram miserably. “Either you earn an official position or…”
“Or you cannot be in our company. Period.”
Aasha’s heart began to race.
“I have to… to leave to stay?”
They nodded.
The world now felt terribly larger than it had just a moment ago. Bharata was safe. She might be ridiculed for her oddness, butat least it was in an enclosed space. As it was, Aasha could hardly mimic the correct human mannerisms. Her blunderings were only tolerated because of her friendship with Gauri and Vikram. Eventoleratedwas a generous word. Some dared to whisper that the queen of Bharata kept company with a witch. Not all citizens were eager for the kingdoms of Bharata and Ujijain to join together. They would take whatever observation they could and twist it cruelly. Aasha was reminded all too often that every blunder she made had consequences beyond her.
Once, when Gauri had been in a meeting with various diplomats, Aasha had started yawning. She tugged on Gauri’s sleeve, interrupting her, all to ask whether or not they could go outside instead because she was terribly bored. Gauri had turned to her, and in a voice so low that no one else could hear her, said:
“Do you not realize how deeply you are embarrassing me? Stop.”
There was no malice. Or heat. And it was the calm, flat of Gauri’s voice, spoken while her face was still a mask of pleasant calm, that had set Aasha’s insides on fire…
She had done wrong. There was no other way around it. Gauri had apologized for speaking so harshly the moment they were alone, but the humiliation felt sticky for weeks to follow. It had not even occurred to her how her actions might look to another person. Interrupting the queen of Bharata was tantamount to insulting her control of court and even her fitness as a sovereign.
And now, she would have to leave even this behind. What strange terrain awaited her? She could feel the weight of Gauri and Vikram’s expectations like a hand pushing down on her lungs. In the Otherworld, she had been called too curious for her own good. Now it seemed as though she had traded curiosity for cowardice.
“Do you accept?” asked Gauri.
Aasha wanted to say yes. But the question was not whether she could accept, but whether sheshould.All she had wanted was to know what it meant to be human and all that that entailed. But it had come at such a jagged price. In her panic, she felt her blue star prickling. Aasha tamped it down, and stared at her two friends.
They had fought through so much. Could she not do the same? And then she saw their smiles fall just a bit. As if they’d been stung. And all fear drained from Aasha’s heart. Her friends needed her. Love, fierce and sharp, grabbed her heart.
“Yes,” she said. “I accept.”
3
Aasha could not remember falling asleep.
In her dreams, her thoughts tangled and stuck together. The dreams lost their edges—she was in thevishakanyaharem, the heat forcing her hair to stick to the nape of her neck. In the next moment—or perhaps it was an hour later, or perhaps it was at the same time—Gauri was running toward her. Blood on her mouth. Hands full of thorns. Aasha’s blue star wouldn’t disappear in time. She tried to warn her that she could no longer control her powers. She tried to warn her to stay back. But Gauri didn’t hear her. She flew into her arms, then wilted.
Aasha bolted upright.
Failure sat heavily on her chest. For a moment, she could hardly draw breath into her lungs. Her heartbeats roared loud, an unruly cadence that seemed to scream at her in that gray fugue of sudden waking:
You failed. You failed. You failed.
Her head dropped into her hands. Something sharp and dry scraped against her skin. She shrieked, drawing back.
